Beginning with physical intolerance for alcohol, for years drinking only for the sake of comradeship and because alcohol was everywhere on the adventure-path, I had now reached the stage where my brain cried out, not merely for a drink, but for a drunk.

For her gift of tears, Christ reached out his hand from the cross and spoke to her. 130 In the same community, Mehthilt of Neitstein cried daily while at prayer. 131 None of this weeping seems to have been done silently, but rather it was accompanied by sobs and wailings.